Leave Your Style Cramped

Mom Duke...

Anything PMD touch is going

**** be like Slow Flow's flowing

Creep without you **** knowing

From Brentwood boondocks

To Brooklyn yo my tune knocks

Blowing watts, so what’s the deal, hops?

Parish Smith, I does this

No time to reminisce

In 9 -6 blow the dice and let 'em roll kid

4-5-6 posing for hardcore flicks and shit

Mad **** on the dick

I gots to represent never hesitant

**** all quiet, bitched up like a convict

Yo, so what’s the deal with the million dollar man?

You know the hand, the Benz plus the green Land

It ain’t all about the loot, I does this for my troops

Put my **** up on the real scoop

Gots to represent Moms, word bond

Run through lines of MCs like a shine

Salaam, a don, mad personality

My crew be catching casualties

So when you yes, yes, ya’lling

You better watch who's name you calling

Timber, you falling

Calling my name, calling my fame

Coming off the scene low in the cut, hitting my bitch Jane

Clocking the mental, keeping it simple

Dropping the rhymes and flipping instrumentals

That's is how it’s going down

From 1996 to motherfucking 2000